The Master's Eye
by DramioneInLove
Summary: How a lowly, orphan maid caught the eye of the master. Regency-Era Dramione. OS.


**So, I wrote this little OS instead of working on my other fics. SO SHOOT ME, RIGHT?! Sorry. I'll get around to Magus Pestis and Mercury and my French fics soon, this is just a little something I felt like writing this weekend instead. So, enjoy.**

 **This is a Regency-era Dramione.**

 **Disclaimer as usual, if I was JKR I'd be sitting in my mansion laughing like a mad scientist while sipping upon my Nuit Saint Georges, not lurking around Fanfiction sites.**

…

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the doorway to his ancestral home, clutching onto a little sack holding all of her belongings as if it were a shield, as she gazed around the entry in something akin to awe, taking in the sheer size and magnificence of the room. The late Summer sun, falling behind her, lit up her mahogany curls with fiery intent, contrasting with her pale skin, and he thought as he stared at her, unnoticed by the maiden, that she was the very personification of Autumn. He could easily imagine such a slip of a woman dancing around in circles with the nymphs of the forest, raising her bare arms to her mysterious gods, oak leaves entwined among that riotous mass of curls as she hummed magic older than time itself. She was beautiful in her own way- a wild, almost savage kind of beauty, but it was refreshing to know that some women were able to show such panache without layers of powder.

A House Elf, that he recognized as Dobby, his personal servant as master of the house, was speaking to her, and he must have ordered her to follow him, since they both disappeared into the meandering corridors off to the right that led to the servants' dominion- the kitchens, scully and dormitory. He raised a slightly disappointed eyebrow at the thought that she were a maid- but then again, he was freshly wed, and his wife, Astoria, could not bear the uncomely sight of the House Elves who were, if truth was to be told, an ugly bunch. Therefore, she had demanded that a maid come to her service- and since Astoria was as high-maintenance as power-hungry, he spared but a second of pity upon the thought of what the girl would endure while in the employ of the Malfoy family.

Pushing away all thoughts of his dear wife- a match made in Heaven according to the ton, in Hell according to him- the Lord of the House exited the premises.

…

"Why, don't you look grand, old chap. You simply exude health and happiness."

The Lord Malfoy sighed silently, raising his gaze to Lord Blaise Zabini- the rightful heir to the throne of Sicily, although the barbaric country had recently decided to follow France and get rid of its rulers in favor of a Republic, chopping Blaise's father's head off in the process- and swirled the contents of his glass of bourbon around, finding some comfort in the familiar amber colour and the faint scent of vanilla.

"Has the delicate and quaint Lady Malfoy been up to her usual tricks?" Blaise guessed again, pushing propriety as he had always done, a right earned as Draco Malfoy's best friend.

"You may laugh now while entertaining such thought," the blonde drawled. "But one day, you shall marry, and I will be the one to snicker at you."

"I don't think so," Blaise answered with a shrug, ordering his queen into E4. "I would be hard pressed to find a wife more terrifying than yours- a pity, such temper, especially since she is beauty incarnate."

Draco could only nod at that. Despite his growing hatred for the woman his late father had bullied him into marrying, he could not deny that her beauty, sung across the continent, still awoke his most primal needs- and a good thing that may have been, as Astoria had yet to present him with an heir.

"I will probably end up throttling her to the death before she gives me a son," he admitted painfully.

"Nonsense," Blaise chuckled, eyeing the board between them with a calculating stare. "For all your faults, you have never been anything but a true gentleman with the ladies- and that includes your own." He sighed, ordering a pawn forward, before adding, "The one redeeming quality Lady Malfoy possesses, however, is that young maid of hers."

Draco could not help casting a slightly interested glance at his old friend.

"Her maid?"

"Hermione Granger," Blaise replied.

"Oh, so that's her name."

Blaise glanced up at him, shock written all over his handsome features, and then exploded into thunderous laughter, slamming his balled fist into the table.

"By golly, Malfoy, the girl has been in your employ for nearly six months!"

"In my wife's employ," he corrected dryly, draining the remainder of his bourbon. "And as I try to see my beloved other half the least possible, I'm afraid I haven't really become acquaintanced with her servant. I have spotted her on occasion, cleaning around the Manor."

Blaise shook his head.

"She's a pretty little thing," he noted aloud. "And she must have the patience of a saint to remain in the Lady Malfoy's employ more than two hours."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. The girl was pretty- although he had yet to formally introduce himself- and his friend was right on the other account, as well. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that Astoria treated the girl as cow dung. Something about that didn't sit well with him- after all, this was a young woman they spoke of, and the Lord Malfoy had always prided himself that his people were well treated. Happy servants did good work, after all.

"King in B2," he ordered thoughtfully, and Blaise's sly grin was met with a sinking heart as the heir to Sicily declared checkmate.

…

"Miss Granger."

The young woman whipped around, her eyes widening in surprise, and he noticed that she almost lost hold of the feather duster she was using to clean his ancestor's portraits in the main hall. She immediately dipped into a slightly clumsy curtsey, and he caught a whiff of her soap- was that jasmine? Shaking his head slightly to clear it, Draco clasped his hands behind his back.

"Please, rise," he declared. "I do not wish to keep you from your tasks for more than a minute."

The girl slowly rose, and his eyes immediately met her own- a surprising amber that held his breath captive for a moment, reminding him of the tasteful colour of brandy.

"My Lord," she breathed in recognition.

"I was merely wondering, Miss Granger, how you are faring in your current employ?"

She tried her best to hide it, he could see, but his question was met with scepticism.

"I am most glad with my employ at Malfoy Manor, and I must take the opportunity to thank Your Lordship- and Her Ladyship, albeit in her absence- for such a matter."

Her voice was like velvet of the softest sort, curling around him, and yet he noticed the slight lilt that told him she was merely repeating a litany one thousand times repeated, and not in the slightest true.

"And does Her Ladyship treat you accordingly?" he ventured.

Her eyes widened slightly, and he saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed. It was as he had feared- Astoria was mistreating this girl.

"Her Ladyship treats me with great-"

"Your lies are well rehearsed, Miss Granger, and I do not doubt for a minute that they ring true to my wife's ear. I, however, am not convinced," he interrupted her, raising a knowing eyebrow.

To his surprise, her gaze hardened, and she answered, her voice a bit cooller at present,

"The Lady Malfoy showed great generosity in offering an orphan, Muggle-born girl some respite from the fate that awaits me, Your Lordship. Not a complaint shall escape my lips."

For a moment, he wondered what terrible life had been that of Hermione Granger that she was willing to suffer his wife's atrocities in silence, and with a tilt of his head, he asked,

"And what fate awaits an orphan, Muggle-born girl, Miss Granger?"

"A lowly marriage at best," she immediately stated, "and the selling of her body to the many at worst."

He slowly nodded.

"As you wish," he said. "I bid you good day, Miss Granger."

And with that, he was gone, two amber eyes imprinted upon his memory.

…

The Lord Malfoy had not expected to speak to the girl in his wife's employ again, as he tried to remain true to his decision in avoiding any and all that associated with his spouse. However, he could not seem to shake the memory of the girl's beautiful eyes from his head, and sometimes, when he entered a room, he relished in the faint scent of jasmine that lingered, alerting him to the fact that the maid had been there shortly beforehand. She was, in truth, a beauty, albeit a hidden one- a diamond in the rough, that needed only cutting and polishing to reveal its true superiority and spark. Before his wedding to Astoria a year prior, he had been the very cliché of the handsome bachelor, bedding wenches right and left to both their and his utmost pleasure, and had he not been wed, he would certainly have wooed the girl into his bed. However, as time passed and Astoria grew her roots in his family home, he had abandoned all taste for such matters, as she had the great power to disgust him of womankind. As a matter of fact, he had abandoned taste for many things- and sometimes, for life itself. He thus spent his time working, downing glasses of fine bourbon to numb his senses, and only made minimal appearances into society. He knew the ton believed that he did not show himself anymore because he was so deeply in love with his beauty of a wife that he dared not leave her bedroom, despite such a matter being as far from the truth as any belief ever was.

Yet he stumbled once again upon the girl one evening, as he was entering the Manor's large library. Sleep evaded him, and he had decided, clutching a glass of bourbon in his fist, to seek companionship amongst books. As he skirted down the alleys, he suddenly noticed her. She was wearing a night gown, all dull brown and off-white, a ghastly thing in truth, and yet it did not seem to take away any of her beauty, quite the opposite- it highlighted her delicate traits. Her riotous curls were loose under a night cap, and she was frowning at two books in her hands, as if trying to make a choice between the two of them. He stopped, observing her for a short while, then made his presence known by clearing his throat.

She glanced up, startled, and with a small gasp, dipped into a curtsey.

"My Lord," she murmured softly. He simply made a gesture with his fingers, allowing her to straighten herself.

"Forgive me for intruding upon your peace, Miss Granger," he stated before peering at the books she was holding. " _The Harrowing Arts of Transfiguration_ versus _The Obnoxious Difficulties of Charms_ , both by Lord Orion Black. A curious choice of bedtime reading indeed."

She gazed up at him through those amber eyes of hers and bit her lip. His eyes drifted towards her mouth, fascinated at the pull of reddish pink skin through those white pearls, and he felt a part of his anatomy harden in response. How long had it been since he hadn't had the pleasure of a woman, other than his wife, who merely lay there waiting for him to finish while sighing in boredom? His gut feeling told him that this slip of a woman would be a passionate lover, and that achieved to render him erect. He was therefore thankful for wearing a long, black silk nightdress over his night clothes.

"A curious choice, Your Lordship?" she asked. "I fail to see why so."

His gaze was attracted to her pale fingers skimming over the cover of one of the books.

"Many women are only interested in learning basic magic, as their men are often more deft with a wand," he explained patiently. "Few ladies of my knowledge wish to read such terribly long tomes after their education has finished- they seek a rich, powerful husband instead."

Her eyes dropped to the books.

"Your Lordship must see me as an oddity," she whispered. "But I have no husband and wish not to seek one."

"Why is that?" he asked, his interest definitely piqued. "Why reduce yourself to servitude in the hands of my wife, when a husband could set you free?"

"Liberty is a matter of perspective, Your Lordship," she answered. "There are, in my belief, fates more terrible than that of servitude, such as being wed to someone who, once the wedding vows exchanged, owns oneself effectively. Are married women not the property of their spouse? Whereas I, in the employ of the Lady Malfoy, can wish someday to change such a fate."

"Some marriages do not work well," he concurred, thinking of his own. "Others, even arranged, even without love, do, however." He thought of his parents, wed of duty, who had come to some semblance of friendship and even love throughout their days together.

She narrowed her eyes at the thought and stated,

"I'd rather not find out whether any potential match would or not work well, Your Lordship. I live presently in servitude, but to wed would be to live in slavery. Besides," she added, voice lower, "I have nothing to bring to a match, no money, no familial ties, nothing. I am alone in the world, and may only count on myself to better my future."

There was a moment of silence as they both mulled over their thoughts, and then the maid turned and put the books back on the shelf. He raised an eyebrow, slightly amused.

"Have you not decided upon a book?"

She hesitated, and he suddenly realized the truth.

"Her Ladyship has not given you permission to use the library," he stated calmly.

"We have never spoken of it, no," she admitted in a small voice, as though a child caught stealing candy. "But since Her Ladyship is at the opera tonight, I had hoped..."

"It would be highly unwise to go against my wife's will, Miss Granger," he interrupted. "I believe that you have already had a taste of Her Ladyship's temper."

She shuddered, and he frowned, wondering how awfully Astoria treated the girl. In his haste to escape his wife at every turn, he had never thought of how the witch bore the brunt of his wife's temper. He hesitated in turn, then decided to give the girl at least something to raise her spirits. Putting up with the Lady Malfoy deserved, indeed, some kind of reward.

"As Lord of the Manor, I allow you to use the library whenever you see fit," he declared. "As long as the books are well treated and returned to their rightful place when you have no more use for them."

She lifted surprised amber eyes to his, and his heart pitter-pattered as a small, shy smile creeped up her cheek, illuminating her pretty face.

"Your Lordship is most kind," she stated breathlessly, and he could tell just how pleasant the news was to her.

His manhood felt heavy with need, and he nodded at her.

"Good night, Miss Granger."

She curtsied again, and he left the room in haste, draining his bourbon as he walked briskly through the halls to his own bedroom, where he slammed the glass down on the nightstand and immediately pulled at his briefs to palm himself, thinking of her amber eyes and her pretty pink mouth as he roared his release to the ceiling.

…

After that, he was acutely aware of the girl's presence in his home. He suddenly seemed to notice her everywhere- spotting her in corridors, passing her as she scrubbed the floors and dusted the tables, even in the gardens where she tended to his mother's prized rosebushes with more care than the House Elves ever could. He saw her also, twice a week, when he visited his wife in hopes to conceive an heir. She would dismiss the maid with a bark before slamming the door shut, and he wryly thought of the girl whenever he lay with Astoria, giving him a strength and some taste to the task he had never felt before. He also spent less time secluded in his office and often sought out the library, knowing that his wife never set foot in the place, but had yet to have found the maid there, to his disappointment.

As such, it had been already one and a half moons since he spoke to the girl, and as he was strolling around the Manor's gardens with his old friend Blaise Zabini by his side, he suddenly noticed her, sitting on a marble bench in the shade of a willow tree by the small ornemental fish pond his grandmother had had made upon returning from a trip to Japan. She was reading a thick, leather-bound book, and her curls were held in a simple albeit pretty updo. She was wearing one of her ugly dresses, of a dull grey, and she did not notice their approach until they stopped in front of her. When she did, she let out a small yelp, covering her heart with one hand, and tenderly, carefully, set the book aside on the bench, before offering a curtsey.

"Your Lordships," she hastily muttered as Draco, once again, ordered her to rise. She straightened her back and glanced at the Sicilian prince.

"Hello, Miss Granger," this one expanded with an elegant sweeping of his hat. "Fine day to be reading outdoors, as the winter chill has not yet set."

"Indeed, Lord Zabini," she smiled, and her eyes lit up with warmth, making Draco frown.

"You have already met His Lordship?" he asked, tone slightly colder than expected.

She turned wide, innocent eyes to her master.

"Yes, Your Lordship," she replied. "The Lord Zabini often comes by to greet you when you are absent. I have met him at the door several times."

"And several wonderful times they were," Blaise stated with a wink.

The girl lifted her eyes to the heavens, grin widening.

A wave of crippling jealousy overtook Draco's heart and mind. He cast his friend a stern glance.

"I do hope you have not been seducing the girl in my absence, Blaise."

At that, the maid gasped in horror, raising a hand to her mouth, and Blaise frowned.

"Of course not," he answered in a clipped tone, "but that, my friend, is merely for she shall not have me. In truth, she is purer than the winter snow- at least in what is of my concern."

"Or any others' concern," she added, eyes hard. "I have exposed to Your Lordship my views of marriage, and to me, it is sin to consummate passion outside of those boundaries."

Draco's stance softened slightly.

"And where is Her Ladyship today, that you skirt your duties to read in the gardens?"

"Her Ladyship is visiting Lady Pansy Nott," the girl answered. "She shall return upon the evening. I believe there were speaks of horse racing."

"Ah, so Her Ladyship is betting away my inheritance again," he muttered. "As long as she is busy away from here..."

Blaise snorted at that, and he noticed that the maid herself was struggling to remain serious. He suddenly noticed something and peered closely at her throat with a frown. The girl brought a hand to her neck, but it was too late.

"What happened to your throat, Miss Granger?"

"N-nothing, Your-"

"I have told you before, Miss Granger, it is of no use lying to me," he stated coldly. "What happened that your throat bears such bruises?"

She hesitated, before her hand dropped away, revealing several large, black spots.

"I hurt myself," she declared.

"Hurt yourself?" Blaise asked suspiciously. "Did you _strangle_ yourself, Miss?"

"I-"

"Those are fingerprints," Draco confirmed. "Who lay a hand upon you? Speak now. You are of my servants, and I shall not stand for my people being harmed."

Her eyes fell to the ground, and her mouth tightened before she shook her head. She would not speak. The master's eyes fell to her book- a well-known guide to self-healing.

"Is this," he asked, "the first time my wife raises her hand to you?"

She shivered and met his gaze, eyes widening in fear.

"Please, Your Lordship," she gasped. "Please. You know how this employ is of importance to me."

His hands balled into fists.

"I do not intend to sack you," he answered.

"But if you were to confront your wife in regards to such matters, the result would be the same," she pointed out correctly. "Please, Your Lordship..."

"You are no longer in my wife's employ, Miss Granger," he interrupted coldly. "I will not be having dead maids upon my hands. What happened?"

"Please," she begged, eyes watering. "I...I deserved it. The Lady Malfoy...her tea was lukewarm and not hot as she prefers it. It won't happen again- please don't!"

"She strangled you because her tea wasn't hot enough?" Blaise all but shouted, eyes wide, but Draco spoke once more.

"I cannot leave you in the employ of my wife, Miss Granger, for your security," he claimed. "From this day forth you shall be in my personal employ. Your duties from now on will be the cleaning of my office and of the library. The books within are in long need of classification."

She touched her throat absently as Draco produced his wand. He waved it and the bruising disappeared.

"You may enjoy the rest of your day as you deem fit," he added. "Tomorrow morning, my office, at five sharp. I begin my work day at six."

With a nod, he strolled away, Blaise Zabini in tow.

…

The screeching began at ten in the evening. Draco was sitting in his office, catching up on several important cases, when Dobby, his personal Elf, apparated into his office. He met the creature's gaze tiredly.

"Your Lordship demanded that Dobby warn you when the Lady Malfoy returned," the House Elf reminded him with a bow. "She is here."

A furious scream met his declaration and the master raised an eyebrow.

"So it would seem," he announced. "You may go."

The House Elf disapparated with a resounding crack, and a few minutes later, Astoria Malfoy stormed into her husband's office, her beautiful face scrunched up in fury.

"Husband," she spat. "I return to my marital home to find that you have ripped the Mudblood from my employ and are harboring her under your own? What is the meaning of this? Are you fucking her?"

Draco slowly rose from his seat, trying to keep his own temper in check.

"I have given the girl my protection, Astoria, since you are apparently unable to care for her well-being whilst she lives to serve you."

"Well-being? Pardon me? She lives to ensure mine, not the other way around," the Lady Malfoy answered furiously. "She is a filthy little Mudblood, an inferior being, and she has no rights to such _délicatesses_!"

"You almost killed her," he replied, voice icy cold. "You strangled her, and something tells me this isn't the first time!"

"I treat her as any rebellious animal should be treated," Astoria shot back. "With the stick and the boot!" Her beautiful face contorted into a disdainful sneer. "Who would have thought that the handsome Lord Malfoy, the _favori_ of the ladies, would satisfy himself with bedding a stupid little Mudblood who is the property of his own wife?"

"I am not fucking her, Astoria," he spat in turn, his own temper flaring, "but maybe I should- Merlin knows she'd be a welcome reprieve from you and your own non-existent talents in that matter!"

She slapped him, hard, and his head turned. As if suddenly realizing she'd gone too far, she hesitated, then stomped out of the room.

Draco sighed, before sitting down and grabbing the nearby bottle of bourbon.

…

Within days, the rumor that Lord Draco Malfoy was bedding a mere Mudblood servant and giving her preferential treatment over his own Lady wife was all the outrage within the ton, at least if Blaise was to be believed- Draco himself rarely associating with the ton any longer as he continued to seclude himself within his dominion, lest he encounter the wife in question at some event or other. He refused, however, to bring himself to regret his decision- since the girl had been brought to his service, he could only congratulate himself upon his move, as his office had never been more spotless, and the library itself had undergone serious classification, as per his request. He saw the maid every day now, as although she had already left his office when he began working, he often spotted her in the library. As time passed, she seemed to regain some health- rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, he decided, were of the greatest graciousness upon her pretty features, and she no longer seemed to skirt the walls in the darkness, unseen by all. She also seemed, as weeks passed so, more relaxed in his company- she now would even bring him lunch in his office to make certain that he caught a break, and during that time, he would invite her to share tea and biscuits, and make small talk.

Draco wished that he, himself, were as relaxed as his servant. The truth, however, was that he could feel himself fall under her allure more so every day. The girl was more than just a pretty face, and she held the best conversation, being, to his stupor, as educated in politics and magic as he was, and occasionnally bringing him solutions to his business problems. She bantered well, an occupation that the Lord had missed, hiding away from the ton- and as time passed, a true semblance of friendship, tentative, hesitant, branded by their difference in social status and own experiences, was struck. Draco, however, often palmed himself in the seclusion of his bedchamber whilst thinking lustfully of the petite maid, one that he dared not touch for fear of seeing rejection on her face, and out of respect for his wedding vows, no matter how hollow they were, as he and his wife had not shared a bed since the arrival of the girl into his own employ.

However, when arrived Spring and his annual visitation of his estates- a mission that generally lasted a week and a half, as he'd leave Wiltshire on horseback (as it was Muggles he was to visit) and ride to Cumbria, where he held great swathes of the beautiful Lake District, including large sheep farms that produced the finest lamb in all the land, before returning when satisfied that his land and livestock were well tended to, as the meat was destined to honour the Queen's table- his only thought was of what to do with the girl whilst he was absent. Usually, he left Malfoy Manor in Dobby's capable hands, and Astoria lorded over the poor House Elves with a tyrannical fist during her presence. However, despite his knowledge that his maid would manage the dominion to his difficult standards, he could not leave her there on her own to be subjected to Astoria's viciousness. He considered briefly bringing her with him- as he was certain that the young woman would absolutely love the infamous Lake District, romantic of heart and eye as she was- however, such an idea was impossible to execute, as he could not well leave with an unwed maiden without sullying her reputation for her entire lifetime. As she had no family, he ordered her to take a holiday of one week, promising to return early from his travels, and suggested that she Apparate to Scotland, which she had always dreamt of visiting- he even doubled her weekly salary the week before so that she may lack nothing.

The morning she left, with a few necessities packed into a little bag, at the break of dawn, he watched her riotous curls light up with fire in the newborn sunlight from the window of his bedchamber. She Disapparated in front of the iron-wrought gates, and he sighed, allowing melancholy to fill his soul for a moment- her presence had become something of a necessity to him. He prepared himself, then called for Dobby, explaining his leave to the House Elf.

"Where be Miss Granger?" the creature asked with a knowing stare.

"Miss Granger is vacationing until my return," the Lord Malfoy answered truthfully. "As usual, the Manor is yours in my absence, Dobby. When my wife awakes, tell her that I am visiting our estate. Do not hesitate to come to me in case of need."

The House Elf bowed and vanished immediately. Draco then remembered that he had not warned the creature that he would be returning early from this particular trip, but decided against calling the Elf back, and instead hurried to the stables where he knew his stallion would be prepared for him.

…

The Manor was eerily silent upon his return, and Draco frowned as he ascended the stone steps to the front door.

"Dobby!"

The House Elf appeared with a thunderous crack and bowed to his master.

"Master," the creature exclaimed. "We was not awaiting your return yet."

"Miss Granger is due to return today, so I made haste," he answered, ignoring Dobby's raised brow at this development.

"Miss Granger not be here yet, Master."

"And my wife?"

"Dobby does not know, Master. Our Mistress gave tasks to all of the Elves today, away from the Manor. Dobby was being in London, fetching beauty powders for the Mistress until the Master called."

An unshakeable, sinking feeling buried deep inside Draco's bones suddenly erupted. With a frown, he strode into the Manor, producing his wand as he went. Dobby's eyes widened and, hesitant, he trotted behind the Lord Malfoy, who ascended the stairs three by three until he arrived in front of his wife's bedchamber. He pushed the door- it was locked, and he raised his wand without a word. The wooden door instantly exploded, and, face thunderous, the Master of the Manor stepped into his wife's bedchamber.

Astoria Malfoy was lying in bed, pulling her fur blankets up to her chin in order to hide her obvious nudity, fear written all over her beautiful face. Draco ignored her, however, as he ignored Dobby's outraged gasp, his eyes locked on the man in bed with his traitorous spouse.

"Theodore Nott," he growled.

The man cowered under his gaze.

"M-Malfoy, old chap," he muttered. "It's not- it's not what you think-"

Despite the situation, at that, Draco felt laughter bubbling inside his chest. _It's not what you think_? What kind of an excuse was that?

"Isn't it?" he sneered. "Were you not fucking my wife, Nott? Your own wife's best friend- what will Pansy think?"

He turned to Astoria, adding,

"Get dressed and take only what belongs to you, and get out. I shall have my lawyer draw up the divorce contract within the week."

He turned on his heel, but his last comment seemed to provoke Astoria into action. She sat up with an offended gasp and screamed,

"What? Draco- you cannot be serious!"

"I cannot?" he asked amusedly, turning to look at her. "I most certainly can, dear wife- and you'd better hurry, else I make myself a widower instead of a divorcee."

He let the threat hang in the air, leaving the room, a frown marring his eyes but something of a smirk gracing his lips- he would finally be free of Astoria, and of her own doing.

"Dobby," he ordered the House Elf, who was still trotting behind his Master, "please bring me some Floo Powder. I have a visit to make."

He could sense the House Elf's curious eyes upon him as he lit the chimney, and smirked at his loyal servant.

"It seems the Lady Pansy Nott could do with some news on recent developments," he grinned, and Dobby grinned right back.

…

The day had gone by in a flash, as he had watched the Lord Nott leave humiliated by the Floo- he could only imagine the revenge Pansy had prepared for her wayward husband. Then Astoria had made her own leave, by means of carriage whisking her away to her father's home, not before trying everything in her power to make Draco reconsider- begging, pleading, crying and threatening had not moved him, however.

Now, he stood in his office, cradling a glass of bourbon, staring at the iron-wrought gates, as throughout it all, his pretty little maid had not returned.

The sun was setting when she finally appeared, striding up the path at a brisk pace, and the Lord Malfoy felt his cheeks tug up into a somewhat tender smile. A few minutes later, she made her presence within the household known by knocking on his office door. He beckoned her in and asked her to sit, while presenting her with tea and biscuits.

"I trust you travelled well?" he asked.

"I did, Your Lordship. I must thank you again for this opportunity- it was wonderful."

He nodded.

"I have invited Blaise Zabini for dinner. Dobby will take care of the preparations, and I was wondering if you would care to join us?"

She raised surprised, amber eyes to him, trapping his heart once again in their depths. By Merlin, but he had missed this- missed her.

"I am but a lowly maid, Your Lordship," she declared softly, "and I doubt the Lady Malfoy would appreciate having me at her table."

"There will soon be no longer a Lady of the House," Draco answered truthfully, downing his bourbon. "My wife and I have reached, it seems, a common...appreciation...of our separation, and she left the Manor this afternoon. My lawyer is drawing up the divorce contract as we speak."

Her eyes widened and she set her cup of tea on its saucer with trembling fingers.

"My apologies," she said. "I am sorry for your loss- and I..."

"Astoria was a bitch and we both know it," he snorted, waving the matter away. She gasped at the language, but he continued, "I found her bedding her best friend's husband under this very roof upon my own return at noon."

She gasped again, before glancing at her hands, folded in her lap.

"I am certain that the next Lady Malfoy will be a much better match for Your Lordship," she answered. "But that would not be considered difficult, given that the Lady Astoria was, indeed, as you so eloquently put, a bitch."

He laughed at that, and she smiled hesitantly.

"I would be glad to join you and the Lord Zabini at the dinner table," she added as an afterthought, and Draco hesitated in turn.

"Miss Granger," he stated. "I know that you and I have been on solely friendly terms from the first day of your employ at my service, but truth be told, I wish for more out of life for you than being the simple maid of some lord."

His remark brought tears to her amber eyes.

"Your Lordship knows my views of other positions available for me in society, namely marriage," she breathed. "Please-"

"Would you marry for love, Miss Granger? Would you marry for friendship, and lust, and respect?"

Her eyebrows rose at his question and, hesitant, she answered,

"I would, but-"

"And has no potential spouse caught your eye?"

"A man has caught my eye, from the very first day I saw him," she gasped. "But I fear he is no potential spouse, Your Lordship."

"Why not?"

"Our stations are not the same. I am a lowly maid, an orphan girl- and he is higher than the mountains."

"Please, Miss Granger, do not tell me you've fallen in love with the Lord Zabini."

Despite the tears prickling her eyes, she giggled at that notion.

"No, Your Lordship," she admitted. "Althought I hold nothing but great respect for the Lord Zabini, and I mean no offense, but he has not caught my attention in such a fashion."

He took a sip of bourbon, hoping to clear his thoughts.

"Please, do not fire me," she murmured. "I need this employ- please- I do not intend on marrying anyman."

"You spoke earlier of the next Lady Malfoy," he remembered suddenly. "I do admit, I have thought of her often. She caught my eye the first time I saw her, as depression crushed my heart and soul, and she has been nothing but a beacon of light ever since, drawing me from the shadows of darkness and bringing me back to the world of the living."

A single tear trickled down the girl's cheek, and her eyes closed, as if to protect herself from his words.

"She is beautiful, and kind, and noble," he continued, watching her tortured face closely, pulling the truth from her heart as he spoke. "She is everything a Lady of this house should be. She is lowborn, she is Muggleborn, and yet, she is higher than any lady of my acquaintance. She would be a marvelous wife, and a wonderful mother to my heir and any other children we would birth into this world."

He stood and walked around the desk, setting his glass of bourbon upon it. He took the maid's face in his hands, tenderly wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

"I would give her not only a marriage of wealth and power, two things she deserves," he murmured to her closed eyes. "But a marriage of love and affection, of everything she strives for." He gently kissed her forehead, then each of her cheeks and finally, her lips. "For I love her, more than anything in this world, and that is worth more than she could ever imagine."

She finally opened her eyes when it appeared he would speak no more, and her glassy amber gaze met his.

"I ask you to join the table tonight, not as Miss Granger, my maid," he whispered. "But as Miss Granger, the future Lady Malfoy. As soon as my divorce with Astoria is pronounced, I shall wed you. I hope you do not mind such a short notice?"

She shook her head, mute, and he smirked.

"Do not tell me I reduced you to silence, Miss Granger," he stated, before adding, slightly unsure, "that is, of course, if you will have me?"

She raised a hesitant finger to his lips, and he kissed it gently, relishing in the shiver that overtook her petite frame at the gesture.

"It would be a misalliance," she reminded him. "You, the powerful Lord Malfoy, would become the laughing stock of the ton, and I would forever be the little Mudblood who bewitched a Lord. I cannot let that happen to you."

"Miss Granger...Hermione," he breathed. "Do you love me?"

She hesitated, another tear leaking from her amber depths, and nodded slowly.

"As do I," he answered, kissing her lips once more. "Will you marry me?"

Again, she shivered, before giving in to his demand with another nod.

"Then all is well," he murmured, kissing her thrice and pulling her to her feet against him.

This time, she gently kissed him back, hesitant, unsure, and he felt joy and happiness flare in his chest, the nature of which he had not felt for many months.

"My Hermione," he muttered against her neck as he held her close. "You caught my eye the first time I saw you, and every day ever since."

Her only answer was to hug him harder, and Draco felt himself melt at the promise such a gesture held. He did not know, when he first saw her, that she would become the axis around which his world spun, and he could not answer for the future the world would bestow upon such an union, but there was one thing he did know, clearer than day- he would stand by her for their lifetime as she had stood by him for many months- for when true love catches one's eye, it is never to be let go.

…

 **THE END**

…

 **Please Read and Review. Keep in mind this isn't Beta'ed, I just published it as soon as I was done. Read you soon!**


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